Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Kenneth Weene will be here tomorrow 12-3-2009

Kenneth Weene will be here tomorrow so in the mean time I thought I would give you a teaser.

Title: Widows Walk
Author: Kenneth Weene
Publsher: All Things That Matter Press



Blurb:
Mary Flanagan, caught between her sense of religion and obligation on one hand and her very human desire for love and life on the other, is in emotional limbo. When she meets Arnie Berger, who becomes both her lover and philosophic guide, Mary’s world seems to be transformed.
Changes also come for Mary’s children, who have been trapped in their own dilemmas. Sean, a quadriplegic, is looking for a fulfilled life. Mary’s daughter, Kathleen must cope with infertility and anger in her search for happiness.


The lives of all three Flanagans are turned upside down by happiness and tragedy.



Website:http://www.widows-walk.webs.com/
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/kenneth.weenev=info&edit_info=all#/home.php?ref=home
Buy Link: https://www.createspace.com/3391435



Excerpt:
They continue their northern progress. Their objective is the outlet stores in Freeport, Maine. Arnie has always wanted to visit L. L. Bean. He has been buying clothes from their catalog for years. Even though, except for his army experience – as a clerk in a reserve unit – he has never spent any time in the woods, he has always fancied himself the outdoors type – whatever that might be. So he has bought flannel shirts and hiking boots, chino pants and parkas – and he has made his own fashion statement as he has wandered the bookstores and coffeehouses of Boston.


Occasionally a student will ask him about his love of the outdoors and his favorite activities. Arnie is always honest and self-deprecating in his responses. He talks about his PrestoFlame log fires and the books that he likes to read while sitting beside them.


The couple hasn’t thought to make reservations so early in spring so they have to continue on to Old Orchard Beach before they find an empty motel room. "If you're here for the shopping," the clerk offers, "the best time is around two or three."


“So, we’re too late?” May asks.


“Nope, too early. Two or three in the morning.”


"Why's that?" Arnie asks.


"Cause that’s when most of folks are in bed. You can get into the stores. Most times you can’t even get a parking spot. AAy-yup, Try the middle of the night. That’ll be best. Aay-yup!" His broad a accent makes this all seem normal and reasonable.


It hasn’t occurred to them that they will be among the thousands of people from along the east coast who will have flocked to Freeport on this lovely early spring weekend.


They follow the clerk's suggestion for a place to eat an early supper. It’s busy but friendly, and the fried clams and potatoes are excellent. Better, it seems to have more locals than tourists which pleases Arnie. After supper they take a walk along the boardwalk. It is still too cold for the attractions to be opened, but they’re able to buy a box of saltwater taffy. Each of them tries a piece and almost simultaneously take the pieces of candy out of their mouths.


“God, that’s awful,” Arnie observes.


“I’ll bet dentists love it,” Mary adds. “It could pull every filling out of my head.”


They go back to the motel. Having set the alarm clock for two and finding nothing of interest on the television, they turn out the lights and try to sleep. The last of the day’s sunlight is poking its way though the gaps in the curtains and around their edges. Bands of light fall across the head of the queen-size bed and others reflect from the full-length mirror to play on the fading floral print of the wallpaper. "We're not going to go to sleep," Mary observes.


"I guess not." Arnie kisses her ear and fondles her breasts. She reaches down and caresses his genitals.


"You're so beautiful," he whispers.


She never tires of hearing his compliments. Still she feels compelled, as she always has, to demur. "Oh, you just say those things."


Arnie rolls away from her and stares at the ceiling. He turns back and looks directly into Mary’s eyes. She is startled by the seriousness in his eyes. "Mary, I swear to you that in my eyes you are more beautiful than any woman in the world." He waits for her to say something, but she doesn’t – she has no idea what to say. Arnie continues, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”


“What?” Mary isn’t sure what’s happening but knows that it’s important. There is a thin gasp of nervousness in her mind.


Arnie gets up from the bed and fumbles in his jacket pockets until he finds a small box. He kneels on the bed and thrusts it at her and gasps, “Will you marry me?”


“Yes, oh yes," she responds. Taken by surprise, Mary feels as if she is spinning – spinning and simultaneously soaring in joy.


Arnie takes the ring from its box. Mary holds out her left hand, and he slips the ring on to her finger. “It’s beautiful,” she croons. “It’s so beautiful.” She kisses him, gently with the sense that he is precious and fragile.


“Oh, Arnie, I’m so happy.” Her voice is full of joy and excitement. She feels her heart beating with happiness. She hugs him and showers his face with kisses.


“Believe me, I am, too!” Arnie manages to say in between her embraces. He wants to dance around the room, to shout with joy, to fly to the moon. Not knowing what to do with his excitement, he pulls Mary from the bed and hugs her tightly. Gently, he lays her back on the mattress. “I love you so much,” he says.


“Oh, I love you. I love you. I truly love you,” Mary responds with all her heart.


Arnie kneels next to her on the mattress and kisses her body in a hundred places. She giggles at the intensity of his kissing. “I want to kiss you forever, make love to you forever, be with you forever.”


Mary wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him on top of her. “Make love to me now,” she moans. “Make love to me now – now and forever.” Their hands, their mouths, their souls touch and caress. Mary can feel the rough softness of his penis as it gently pushes inside her. She can feel the thrusting of his pelvis as one with her own. She can feel the sudden excitation of their shared fulfillment. She can feel the total togetherness that makes them as the first couple in the Garden of All Love.


When they have finished, Arnie and Mary lay, in mutual exhaustion – two spoons nestled on the bed – Mary behind Arnie, Arnie closer to the window.


The only sound in the room is the buzz of the heating unit. Through the window and the cracks around the door, they can feel the cold air coming off the ocean. The last shreds of sunlight make their way through the curtained window. Mary watches Arnie's back slowly rising and falling with his breathing. She runs her index finger along his spine. Arnie shivers slightly at the sensation – it is the shiver of delight. "I love you Mary Flanagan."


"And I love you, Arnie Berger."


That is the last thing either of them hear until the buzzer wakes them in the middle of the night.

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